Darkness
by Ketharil
Summary: Post-NJO. An accident causes Kyp Durron to have to deal with many changes. Jaina is one of them. Complete.
1. Part 1

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Darkness

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: An accident changes Kyp Durron.  Better than the summary, I promise, but I can't give too much away.

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Post 1 of 4

            Story Status: Complete

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

Part I

*~~~*

            He sometimes wondered if his entire life had been spent in the embrace of darkness.

-

            When he had been a child, back when his childhood was still unspoiled by death and grief and memories a child shouldn't know, darkness had been soft and gentle.  Nightfall meant security.  He had been able to look out into the dark night sky, safe in the knowledge that his parents were watching over him, that his older brother was only a whisper away.  Darkness merely hid his family; he was confident that when the skies lightened and banished the darkness, his family would still be there.

            Then came the darkness of Kessel, where he had no family.  The perpetual night of the mines, the years of life without a glimpse of natural light, where the dark was harsh and enveloping.  He had never feared the blackness.  It had been a constant, something that crept into his mind with every blink of his eyes.  He grew comfortable with the darkness, learned to live with it, let himself adapt to life in the dark.  He went days- weeks- months- at a time without light when the generators failed, and he found that he didn't mind.  Natural darkness was better than artificial light.  That's what he had told himself when he found himself lurking in the shadows, turning his face away from the bright and painful glare of searchlights and guidelines.  He had welcomed the smothering darkness even as he sought to escape it.

            He had somehow survived Kessel, somehow escaped the darkness.  Light had been painfully bright and glaring, the sun blinding and harsh to his little-used eyes.  Sight had never been so important before.  He found himself most at home flying, himself a speck of light surrounded by the darkness of space.  Black space was strangely comforting- the darkness he was comfortable with and light enough from the stars to see by.

            He sometimes thought that it was because he had grown so used to darkness, because he was so comfortable with it, because he wasn't afraid of it, that he had fallen so completely into its grasp.  

            It was ironic, really.  He had spent most of his life trying to escape the two forms of darkness that he had learned to become comfortable with.

            He had hated Kessel not for the darkness but for the lack of freedom, the lack of family, the lack of anything important.

            He had hated falling to evil not because it was the Dark Side but because what he had done had taken away family, taken away friends, and destroyed what was important.

            They were nearly identical now, those two different parts of his life: the darkness merely covered acts that he was ashamed he had completed.  The darkness smothered out his family, lost him the trust of his friends, made him destroy any chance he had of ever being fully accepted.  And yet the darkness itself, the darkness that had led him to deeds he always sought to escape from- the darkness always felt welcoming.  Inviting.

            The call of the Dark Side was still seductive, even after all the years since his fall and return.  Somehow he ignored it.

            The whispers of physical darkness were even harder to resist, and so he did not.  In the black night he could stand and feel the dark around him and recognize both his comfort within it and his longing to escape it.  Darkness was where he thought the best.  It was a safe haven, a way to remind himself that he was alone.  A way to tell himself that he had fallen, and needed to never fall again.

            Each time he left the darkness to return to lit corridors and glowing guidelights and blinking keypads, it was an affirmation of sorts, his own private triumph over the darkness.  He had fallen, and he was living with that.  But the darkness, comfortable as it was, had no claim on him.  He had escaped back to the light.  He continued to escape every time he reentered brightly-lit hangers or turned his X-wing out of inky space into the light of a star.  Each pinpoint of light celebrated his escape and proved to himself that the darkness would never again claim him.

-

            Light banished darkness.

-

            He had said as much to her, years ago, back when she too had fallen and redeemed herself.  And she had been the first to truly understand what he meant.  Maybe that was why she had come.

*~~~*

            He sometimes wondered if it was some form of cosmic retribution.

-

            "I don't want your pity," Kyp growled out, not bothering to turn and face her.  

            She snorted.  "Good, 'cause you're not going to get it."  She came to stand beside him.  "I'm here to help."

            "Go away."

            She laughed.  "Nope.  And I'm just as stubborn as you, so if you're going to wait for me to leave, we're going to be standing at this viewport for a while."

            He did turn toward her then.  "Jaina-"

            She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him; after an uncertain heartbeat, he pulled her close and allowed himself to hold her.  

            "I'm not leaving," she said fiercely, her head tucked against his chest.  "You won't be able to get rid of me."

            He inhaled, breathing in the conflicting scents of X-wing grease and some perfume he couldn't recognize, and let out his breath on a sigh.  "I don't want you here."

            Jaina's lips curved against his chest.  "Yes, you do.  You're just trying to pretend you don't."

            She was right, but he didn't want to admit it.  He lifted and hand and ran it down the smooth expanse of her hair, felt it catch in the tangles toward the bottom.  He gave in.  "How long do you want to stay?"

            "Until you don't want me anymore."

            Part of him rejoiced at her words- she wouldn't be leaving ever again- even as he grinned down at her and teased, "Well then, I'll help you to the spaceport."

            She slipped away from him and lightly punched his shoulder.  "Oh, shut up.  You know what I meant."

            And since he did, he softened his tone.  "I did."  He paused for a moment.  "Thank you."

            If the admission surprised her, it didn't show in her voice.  "You're welcome.  I've been through this before myself- well, sort of, for a few weeks- and I just figured you'd want someone around."  Her voice lightened.  "And since I'm one of the few people you can tolerate-"

            "Hey," he growled, and swatted out at her with his hand to bat her away.  He missed, and she stepped forward and took his hand in hers.

            "Let's get going," she said.  "You're probably sick of the medical bay by now."

            "Yeah," he agreed, and allowed her to pull him away from the viewport.  "Are they going to let you take me out?"

            She laughed.  "Oh, I think they'll release you to me," she replied drily.  "I mean, I am _only_ your former apprentice, _only_ a Jedi Knight, _only_ a Rogue veteran..."

            "And they're probably all too glad to get rid of me, is that it?"

            "Close enough, Durron.  Let's go."

-

            He was blind.

-

            Days later, when the awkwardness was beginning to fade and the fear and frustration were beginning to set in, he had asked her why- truly- she had come.  "Because I remember being blind," was her response.  And then, "And I know what it is to fear being claimed by darkness."  She understood.  And so she stayed.


	2. Part 2

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Darkness

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: An accident changes Kyp Durron.  Better than the summary, I promise, but I can't give too much away.

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Post 2 of 4

            Story Status: Complete

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Part II

*~~~*

            He sometimes wondered if feeling was a curse.

-

            He was strong in the Force, stronger than he had a right to be.  Stronger than his Master, or so he thought.  Possibly the strongest Jedi alive.  She had laughed at that and told him that he had a pilot's ego, but she hadn't disputed his claim.  It was why he had been able to do such damage to his Master when he fell, why he had been able to survive his redemption.  His strength in the Force had saved his life more times than he could count.  It had saved hers, too, and the lives of her family and their friends.

            But if it hadn't been for his strength, he wouldn't have fallen.  That was the simplest answer.  His strength in the Force, untamed and untrained, and his comfort in darkness.

            But that wasn't the only reason that he sometimes wondered if his strength was a burden.

            Any Jedi could sense emotions.  He could not escape them.  His shields had grown tight and thick around him to try to keep the feeling of others out and away and distant.

            He had enough problems with his own emotions without adding the feelings of others to them.

            He wondered if it was his strength, his power in the Force, that caused him to have such strong emotions.  It seemed as though he never did anything by halves.  Annoyance became anger became fury.  Toleration became affection became love.  Pleasant became enjoyable became delight.  Pity became sympathy became concern.  Nerves became fear became terror.

            So the same shields that he had erected against the outside world he turned inward, built around himself, to keep himself from feeling the extreme emotions.  He became able to move though life easily, without feeling so deeply, and while part of him mourned the loss of true emotion, another part of him felt relieved to have escaped strong feelings.

            But things always snuck in past his shields.  Little things, usually.  

            She had somehow darted straight past his shields and into his heart, where she had nestled close against the part of him that he had shielded the heaviest.  Not that she was aware that she had somehow drifted through his oldest and strongest shields, not that she knew how effortlessly she had defied his efforts to keep her away.  But despite her ignorance, she had turned sympathy to concern, affection to love.  She called up emotions he had hoped to keep buried, and all-too-easily made him long for things that he could never have: family, love, home.  All the things he had resigned himself to never having rose and taunted him in her presence.

            And she, of course, was completely unaware of her effect on him.  He resolved to keep it that way.  Hiding emotions was, after all, one of the things he was best at.

            Most of all, though, she made him want to see again.

            She was sometimes all that stood between him and the eternal darkness he lived in.  Sometimes despair would weigh him down, heavy and smothering and oppressive, and he would open his eyes and strain to see the world and find nothing but the darkness he tried so hard to escape from.

            He no longer found the darkness comforting.  At times, the darkness even frightened him- something that the dark nights of his childhood hadn't accomplished, something that the slave mines of Kessel had never managed to do, something that even the Dark Side had never done.

            And then she would come beside him and take his hand or lay her own hand on his shoulder, and tell him what she saw before them or what she had seen the day before.  And she would open her mind to him and reach for him with the Force, and through their link he could see dim shapes and fuzzy outlines through her eyes.

            And he would remember the light, and she would soothe his fears with her practical orders and steadfast loyalty, and he would calm.

-

            But not completely.

-

            And he always feared that one day he would wake and find that she had gone and left him to drown in the darkness.

*~~~*

            He sometimes wondered, as weeks turned to months, and months slowly turned into a full year, why she still stayed.

-

            "All right, what do you see?"

            Kyp strained, reached toward the pulsing bond between the two of them.  "Nothing."

            "Good, my eyes are shut."

            He growled and reached across the table to try and tug at her hair.  He had found that he possessed good spatial memory; once he located an object, he could find it again easily.  Jaina was no exception.  He could tell where her voice was coming from, tell where she sat from the way her chair had scraped across the ground when they had first reached the table, and so he knew roughly where her hair should be.  He found it and gave it a gentle tug, all in one swift motion. 

            He supposed, to those that didn't know better, he didn't appear to be blind.

            "Brat," he accused her.  

            Her laughter spun into his head.  "Always."  But she reached over the table and he felt her warm hand settle onto his.  "All right, try again."

            Kyp ordered his mind, and reached out towards Jaina once more.  Images and fuzzy objects flashed across his brain, a pattern of vision so intense that it nearly hurt.  But despite the discomfort, Kyp focused on them, focused on whatever Jaina was looking at, and sought to make the picture clear, more than just vague forms.

            But just as he thought he could make a shape he thought was a chair of some sort sharpen and come into focus, the link twitched and died.  Just as it had every time before.

            Jaina sighed and leaned back.  "I'm sorry," she said wearily.  "I don't know why it keeps doing that."

            "It's probably my fault," Kyp said, and brought his free hand up to rub at his sightless eyes.  "I really shouldn't be complaining.  I'm better off than most blind humans as it is, since I have the Force."

            "It's not enough," Jaina burst out.  "You shouldn't have to be blind at all.  It's not fair."

            Her outburst surprised him; he could sense the fury and concern and indignation roiling through her in the Force, and he tried to calm her.  "Hey, Goddess," he soothed.  "I'm fine."

            "No you're not!" she cried, and her hand jerked from his and her chair was abruptly pushed back.  She stood and began to pace, footsteps quick and sharp against the floor.  "It's not fair!"

            Carefully, he stood and stepped away from the table, toward where her footsteps were clicking against the floor.  She'd taken to wearing hard-soled boots, so he could hear her move and know her position by her steps.  "Jaina," he began, but she didn't let him start.

            "It's not fair!" she repeated, and suddenly she stood before him, taking his hands in hers.  "You got through the entire war, and for what?  Now you're stuck here.  You don't go out unless I'm with you, you've refused to teach at the Academy, you resigned your position on the Council.  This isn't _living_, Kyp.  It's not you."

            "Jaina-"

            "You're don't even let your shields down when we try to link," she continued.  "How am I supposed to help you when you slam down the walls whenever we get close?  You won't go see the medics even though they said you should be able to regain your sight if you work at it.  You're giving up, Kyp.  It's not who you are."

            He tightened his hands around hers.  "Jaina, calm down."

            "No!" she flung back.  "You're not trying any more, Kyp.  You don't even open your eyes anymore.  And if you've given up, then I don't know why I'm still here."

            Terror spiraled through him so fast that he didn't realized that he had stepped forward and crushed her against him until she was actually pressed hard against him.  "Don't leave," he begged.  "I'm trying, I'm just tired.  Please, Jaina, don't leave."

            Her voice was muffled, and Kyp only then realized she was crying.  "I won't, I don't want to, but Kyp, you keep pushing me away.  I can't help if you won't let me."

            Her shoulders were shaking; some part of him felt guilty for making her cry.  "Jaina, Goddess, I'm sorry."

            "I'm not leaving, Kyp.  I've been here a year already.  I'm not giving up.  You can't push me away, so you might as well start cooperating." 

            She sounded as though she was calming down.  He rubbed his hands slowly up and down her back, the smooth texture of her shirt covering the warmth he knew lay just beneath it.  "I'm sorry," he murmured into her hair.  "I just keep expecting you to go away, and so I didn't want to let you in to lose you."

            He was surprised he'd said that out loud, but once it was spoken, he didn't want to retract it.

            "You're the only thing that keeps the darkness away," he said, and slid his hands up to frame her face.  "Don't leave."

            Jaina's voice was watery.  "I won't," she said, and he could feel the dampness of her tears on her cheeks.  He wished he could see her.  "Don't you get it, Kyp?  I'm not leaving you."

            Too many emotions swelled up with her words, too many dreams for him to really hide them all.  He bent down, found her lips with his, and kissed her.

-

            And she stayed.

-

            He no longer worried that she would leave.  Instead he worried what she was missing by staying.  But when asked about everything she had given up, she just laughed, moved into his arms, and whispered up to him, "It was worth it."


	3. Part 3

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Darkness

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: An accident changes Kyp Durron.  Better than the summary, I promise, but I can't give too much away.

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Post 3 of 4

            Story Status: Complete

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Part III

*~~~*

            He sometimes wondered what others thought when they saw the two of them together.

-

            He'd paid attention to what she had said, and began to move back into the galaxy despite his blindness.  The Academy was new and needed teachers; her uncle had been surprised when he'd asked if he could teach, but he had been allowed.

            So he found himself teaching, of all the students, the young children.  How she'd laughed when he'd told her.  She'd teased him for days, taunting him about how the mighty had fallen.

            To his surprise, he enjoyed it.  He learned to recognize his students not by sight but by their signature in the Force, the way their feet sounded when they moved across stone floors, the way they approached him.  There was equality in the darkness.  The race of his students didn't matter, nor did age or appearance.  All that mattered was their minds, all that he could see of them was their Force presence.  

            He liked to think that the students enjoyed his teachings, enjoyed their time with him.

            But he still wished for escape from the darkness, if only so that she wouldn't have to face the stares alone.  She accompanied him around the Academy, helping him learn the new corridors and halls, so different from the Temple Academy on Yavin 4 where he had trained.  

            He wanted to be able to help her when people asked her why she was with him, why she had left piloting to help with the students herself just so she didn't have to leave him.  But he still wasn't quite sure on that matter himself, and so he had to listen to the questions and know, at least, that she provided others with no more answers than she provided him.

            No one completely understood why she stayed, least of all him.  Pieces were obvious.  They were partners- whatever that meant, and as he wasn't sure he was certain no one else had a clue about it either.  They were not quite lovers, but more than simply friends.  They had been Master and Apprentice.  They had flown together; they had fought together.  He figured that he owed her his life at least as many times as she owned him hers.  They had both fallen to darkness; they had both risen back to the light.

            She remembered being blind, and she knew what it was to fear the darkness.

            But that reason was between the two of them, and while it explained the most, it was also hidden the most.

            And the darkness was no longer quite so fearful.  Seeing through her eyes was still difficult, still hazy, still cut short for reasons neither of them could figure out.  But despite this, the darkness did not seem to be so horrible.

            She was there, and the darkness lessened.  It was as simple as that.

-

            He loved her.

-

            They had been out of the Academy, in a small Ithorian place for lunch, when she had been hailed by voices of friends and invited to eat with them.  He'd said she could go; but she had simply laughed and told him to shut up.  And she stayed with him.

*~~~*

            He sometimes wondered if the medics had lied when they said his vision would someday return.

-

            He had taken to keeping his eyes open as though he could see.  Jaina had tormented him until he had agreed.  He only wished that he had been able to see her blushing- for he was sure she had been blushing- when she admitted she liked seeing his eyes.  He still saw nothing, but he was beginning to feel a bit more like his normal self.  The darkness had lifted a bit.

            He didn't realize how much it had lifted until he turned his head toward Jaina to reply to a question, and stopped dead.

            "Kyp?" Jaina asked, as he paused.

            "Jaina," he said slowly, "are you wearing anything on your jacket?"  

            The small glint that had caught his eye- a glint he should not have been able to see- blurred as darkness covered it.  "I've got a silver patch sewn into it," she said.  "Why?"

            He reached out to touch the patch, saw the darkness that must have been his hand cover it even as he traced the embroidered patch.  He heard Jaina's sharp intake of breath, but she didn't move.  "Can you see it?"

            "Barely," he said, and blinked again, trying to draw it into focus.  "What is it of?  I don't recognize it?"

            "You wouldn't," Jaina managed.  "It's the Academy's new emblem, the one that Eiia'sha designed a few months ago."

            He fingered the design on the patch: three lightsabers, hilts at the bottom, blades blazing up to connect in a point at the top of the patch.  He squinted and blinked at it once more, and suddenly it cleared and he could make out the different colored threads for the silver hilts, the blue lightsaber on the left and the green lightsaber on the right and the violet lightsaber in the middle, on a background of silver-grey.

            He shut his eyes, fought to steady himself as a wave of dizzying joy swept over him.  He opened his eyes once more to look on Jaina's jacket- it was now a deep brown, the patch standing out easily.  Beyond it was tan carpet, beige walls, and a couch, all blurry and starting to sharpen into focus.  He shut his eyes again.

            "Jaina," he said, and reached for her face with his hands.

            "You can see," she whispered, and gave a watery laugh.  "Oh, Kyp, you can see again."  She flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly, and Kyp clenched his eyes shut and savored the feel of having her against him for a brief second before he eased himself away and returned his hands to her cheeks.  "Stay still," he ordered her, and felt her nod.  He opened his eyes.

            For a long moment, she was simply a flesh-colored blur, and then the blur began to grow distinct.  Her eyes went from darker pits to deep pools of dark brown; her hair from a fuzz of color to shining individual strands; her lips from a lighter slash of color to a pink curved mouth.  He simply stood and stared at her, throat tight and eyes tearing- not from the pain of sight suddenly returned, but from joy and relief.

            A single tear trickled down Jaina's cheek; he moved his thumb to brush it away.  "Jaina," he whispered, and for the first time, looked at her as he kissed her.

-

            And she cried.

-

            He didn't understand why she cried.  At first, he thought it was because she was happy for him, but as the days passed, he would see her- how he watched her, those first days, eager to drink in the sight of her- weep to herself when she thought he wasn't looking, fight back tears and melancholy as his life returned to normal.  And he was confused.


	4. Part 4

~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Darkness

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: An accident changes Kyp Durron.  Better than the summary, I promise, but I can't give too much away.

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Post 4 of 4

            Story Status: Complete

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Part IV

*~~~*

            He sometimes wondered why he missed the darkness.

-

            He didn't understand why he found himself standing in darkness even when, had he turned on the light, he would be able to see.  He didn't know why he still sought out dark corners to think in when he had been so relieved to finally see again.

            His rooms were barren and plain.  He immediately reprogrammed the walls to show landscapes, images of space, anything but plain walls and emptiness.  He didn't understand how she had been able to live for so long in rooms that were so plain.  But maybe because he had lost his sight he understood how precious it really was; maybe to her, plain walls weren't somehow threatening.

            But for all that he reveled in seeing things once more, he somehow missed the darkness.  Sight, for all the beauty it revealed, was somehow lacking.

            He still taught at the Academy, but now he could see his students, and now he began to teach older students.  He had taught lightsaber drills for the first time, and the feel of sparring back and forth with his opponent had somehow felt right.  He hadn't wanted to spar with her and hurt her, so he had forbid himself from asking her.  He had drilled alone, and now he taught those same drills.

            He considered taking an apprentice, and decided to wait a time before coming to a decision.  She had been his last apprentice; he wasn't sure if he was quite ready to take another after her.

            She hadn't gone back to flying.  Instead, she stayed on at the Academy, so he saw her sometimes.  Her uncle was considering giving her the title of Jedi Master, as he had given to her brother, and asking for her to take on an apprentice herself.  He wondered if she would or not.  He wondered if she would be a good teacher.

            Sometimes he wondered who she considered her Master in truth: her uncle, her aunt, or him.  All had taught her, all had formally accepted her as an apprentice.  All were proud of who she had become.

            He saw her, occasionally, and told himself that he wasn't watching her specifically.  But he knew he lied.  She was still beautiful, still confident and strong in the Force.  But now, to his eyes, she was somehow sad and older, somehow less of herself than she had been before.

            He continued teaching the children, though not as often, and sometimes she would come to collect them at the end of his lessons.  He would watch her help the littlest ones out, holding hands with them and carrying the small Chandra-Fan to tiny to climb up all the steps on his own.  And he would ache somewhere deep inside to see her so close and so far away, seemingly so cheerful but really, to his eyes, so sorrowing.

            And one day, things finally settled down and fitted perfectly together.  He understood why he missed the darkness.

-

            He missed her.

-

            She had been with him when he was in darkness.  The darkness lifted and she hadn't been needed, so she had left.  And she had cried...   Could she miss him?

*~~~*

            He sometimes wondered why it took so long for him to go to her.

-

            "Goddess?  Got a minute?"

            She looked up even as her students snickered around her at his use of her nickname.  They were the in-between students: young enough to remain in the Academy in the group classes, but old enough to feel that they should be out in the world doing great things.  Thirteen, fourteen years old.

            Just a little younger than her brother had been when he had died.  Kyp figured they didn't understand what a blessing the shelter of the Academy could be.

            "Sure," Jaina said, tucking her hair behind her ears in a habitual movement Kyp had nearly forgotten.  "All right, everyone, you're off to Master Solusar now.  And Mitta, if I hear you've Force-pushed anyone else off the stairs, you're going to be assigned to my brother for the rest of your training."

            The human girl she addressed looked suitably threatened, and the group of six or so students gathered their belongings and left the room.

            Kyp raised an eyebrow.  "Jacen's that bad?"

            She shrugged.  "Jacen thinks a lot.  Mitta's not much on thinking.  I think she might start begging you, actually, to take her on as an apprentice."  A small smile played across her face.  "Then again, maybe not.  You've- mellowed," she decided.

            "Yeah."  There was an awkward pause, and Kyp wondered at that.  They'd never been awkward around each other.  "You've changed," he said abruptly, and her head jerked up.  "Something's bothering you."

            He knew he had hit the problem when she looked uncomfortable and waved her hand lightly.  "It's not a big deal," she said.  "I'll get over it."

            "Yeah?  You're sure?"

            "I don't have much of a choice," she said, and managed another weak smile for him.

            Hoping he wasn't completely wrong, he stepped closer to her.  "What if you did?" he asked softly.

            She swallowed- was he making her nervous?- and a slight flush came to her cheeks.  "I don't know what you mean."

            "What if you didn't have to get over it?"

            She stared at him blankly for a minute longer, her beautiful brown eyes unfocused, then she blinked and they cleared.  "What?"

            "What if I asked you not to get over it?"  He took a step closer and took her hands in his.  "What if I asked you to stop trying to push it away?"

            Her fingers were trembling.  "I have to," she whispered.

            "Jaina."  He leaned forward and kissed her forehead gently.  "Almost three years ago, when you came and told me you were staying, you said you'd stay as long as I wanted you to.  Remember?"

            Her breathing hitched.  "Yes.  But you're better now, you can see, and-"

            "I miss you, Jaina."

            Her eyes shone with unshed tears, and he smiled and pulled her close.

            "And I still want you to stay."

            Her breath came out in a rush, and her arms tightened around him.  "I didn't want to leave," she admitted, voice choked.  "But you were better, and you didn't need me anymore-"

            "I'll always need you.  Come back, Jaina."

            She was weeping again, but this time, her tears were not from despair.  "Why?"

            He bent down, tilted her chin with his hand, and kissed her, long and slow.  When they finally broke apart, he told her, "Because you put up with me.  Because I can talk to you.  Because you make the darkness light.  Because I love you.  Please stay."

            She looked dazed.  "You- love me?"

            He kissed her again.  "I love you," he murmured, and brushed away her tears.  "Tell me you'll stay."

            Jaina blinked back more tears.  "Kyp, I love you," she said.  "I never wanted to leave."

-

            And she stayed.

-

            He no longer feared the darkness.  It was once again a reminder to stand in the darkness and move into the light- a reminder that he fell and that he had repented.  But more, it was a reminder of what he had lost and what he had gained.  She understood, and sometimes she would come and stand with him in silence and darkness.  And the darkness was somehow a bit brighter.


End file.
